“I love to swim upon the sand,
And dance upon the brine,
And write my name in salty waves,
And hope for dinner time
To come, so I can eat my fill
Of sea-foam snaps and cream;
And stand upon the quarter-deck
A halfback of the team!”
“Humph! do you call that poetry?” snorted Songbird. “It sounds as much like it as a dog’s bark sounds like a hymn!”
“Well, it would be a ‘him’ if he was a gentleman dog!” retorted Tom, and then Songbird turned away in momentary disgust. But soon his good humor returned and Tom and the others allowed him to “spout poetry” to his heart’s content.